Back in the office, Fenner went straight to his desk and sat down. He lit a cigarette and shouted to Paula. “Come on in, Dizzy.”
Paula slid through the door and sat down at his elbow, her pencil poised over her note-book. Fenner shook his head. “I ain’t dictating,” he said. “I want you to keep me company.”
Paula folded her hands in her lap. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be your stooge.”
Fenner brooded. “Maybe I could get an angle if I turned that money over to the cops to track up. I should be lettin’ ’em in if I did. Grosset is worried about the Chink. He’ll keep his eye on me. Anythin’ I do is goin’ to be shared with that bright boy.”
“Why not? He might find the girl for you if you let him have a chance.”
Fenner shook his head. “I’m still playin’ hunches,” he said. “Somethin’ tells me that the cops are best outta this.”
Paula glanced at the clock. It was getting on to five. “I’ve got some work to do,” she said. “You won’t get anywhere right now.”
Fenner said impatiently, “Stick around, stick around. Ain’t you on my payroll no more?”
Paula settled herself more comfortably. When he was like this she knew it was better to let him have his way.
“Unless this dame contacts me, the case will peter out. I’ve got no lead to go on. I don’t know who she is. She might come from anywhere. All I know is she’s got a sister who’s interested in twelve Chinamen. If the dead Chink was one of them, there are only eleven for her to be interested in now. Why did she give me all that dough, and then take it on the lam?”